


Peach Colored Walls

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Explicit Language, M/M, Romance, Sexual Content, Slash, Spoilers, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-02
Updated: 2005-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 12:11:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10162766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: Voldemort had the right idea after all. Harry regrets killing Voldemort now that muggles have taken notice of magic. - Contains HBP spoilers-





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

**This story is based on characters created by the lovely and talented J.K. Rowling.**

 

Regret, Harry Potter knew that there would be at least a drop of regret after the War. There was blood on his hands, not literally, the killing curse had been clean, but when he glanced at his hands he saw blood just as clearly as he saw “I must not tell lies” etched into his skin.

Harry did not imagine the blood of Tom Riddle, or that of Draco Malfoy, he saw the blood of the innocent wizards and witches who had been slaughtered by the people they had been trying to protect; muggles. 

Voldemort had been a twisted and evil man, but it turns out that he had been right. They should have risen up against the muggles and taken control. The downfall of wizard kind had been quick and painful. The War had caused too much destruction to go unnoticed, which meant that the muggles finally sat up and really opened their eyes. They didn’t like what they saw. 

Harry dug his nail into the peeling wall and a small peach fleck of paint fell to the white tile floor. He stared at it a moment, and again was grateful that his walls were peach and not green or red. Peach was a color that really had no significant meaning to him, it did not make him long for home. 

Hogwarts, pain twisted in his gut at the thought of his former school. He hated muggles, stupid, wretched creatures that they were. Were he to ever get his hands on a wand again, he would make them all pay, right down to the smallest child.

“Inmate 143P, place your chest to the back wall and your hands above you.” Harry allowed his nose to push against the color peach and he stretched his arms as high as he could. It was shower day and he was grateful to be allowed the luxury. 

Yes, showering was a luxury for him now. He was almost in awe of the fact that something as mundane as the feel of warm water spraying his body felt like a gift. It was so different now, life so unlike that which he had expected. He couldn’t bear to think of what all had changed, of those who had been killed, of those of them who were kept hidden in governmental buildings. They were freaks, experiments for mad scientists to tinker with. 

They paused in front of double doors as the guard spoke with a nurse for a moment. Harry thought it was a dark sort of humor that these women in white were called nurses when in fact they were the ones who hurt the inmates the most. Spells might have been something to fear in his other life, but muggles had their own special forms of cruelty and they weren’t afraid of getting their hands dirty. 

Crucio hurt like hell but it wasn’t really a match for what they did. He shivered remembering the feel of leather straps on his wrists, the pain of electricity as it passed through his body, the sound of a knife on whetstone, the coolness of a scalpel blade just before it pressed down too far. There was an added pain to the whole thing when he could look into the eyes of his torturer, feel their hands on his flesh and know that he had killed to save this person, to protect their loved ones from harm. 

The large beefy hand of his guard reached around him and pushed the door open. The steam from the showers hit his face and caused his glasses to fog up. “You have half an hour, 143P.” He felt a slight push and stepped forward into the room. “Enjoy.” There was disgust in the man’s voice as he allowed the door to swing shut.

Harry stepped further into the room. He paused at the bench, placed his glasses down and pulled his long hospital gown off. It was filthy, soaked in sweat and dried blood which made it stiff and uncomfortable to wear. 

The heavy steam clouded his vision as he followed the sound of water. They bathed in pairs. The guards had discovered that throwing too many wizards into one room was a bad idea after they had worked together to kill three guards and one nurse in an escape attempt. 

It was him. It was always him, no one else lasted more than one shower with the man. Harry had survived seven of them now. There was a pink tint to his skin, the water hot enough to give him first degree burns. He was standing facing away from the showerhead, his long fingers smoothing down the small spikes of hair on his scalp. They kept all the inmates practically bald. 

Harry followed the water as it tried its best to wash away the dirt and blood that clung to his sallow flesh. Even from where he was standing he could make out the man’s ribs, his stomach curved in on itself, hipbones protruded looking sharp and deadly. A thick patch of black hair surrounded the half-hard cock.

“Potter.” Harry closed his eyes against the sound of that voice. He loved it and hated the sound, it reminded him of home.

When he gave in to the inevitable and opened his eyes again he was staring directly into pools of black. “Severus.”

Forgiveness was something one didn’t even hesitate to give when they were faced with being completely alone. Yes, Severus Snape had murdered Dumbledore, but he was there too, trapped in a hell full of peach walls and endless white, it didn’t matter what he did before.

Their lips met, feet stumbled back into the spray of the water, and they closed their eyes while they tasted one another. Severus’s hands cradled Harry’s head, secured him so that he could not escape. The closely sheared hair kept him in reality, made him unable to forget their situation. He wanted to feel the thick unruly locks that had been his trademark. He had never been allowed to touch his hair before, now he would never know the softness of it.

They pressed the full lengths of their bodies together. Gentle sweet caresses brought them closer to completion. Harry moaned aloud as Severus’s hands slid down his back, touched each bump of his spine, cupped his cheeks and squeezed them. 

“Yes, Severus.” Harry pushed back into those hands and licked the yellowed bruise that decorated Snape’s left shoulder. 

“Can’t” Severus moved his hands to the young man’s hips and pulled him closer. “Bastard didn’t leave any soap this time.”

“I’ll kill him.” Harry thrust his hips forward and caught the moan that had been about to escape.

“Indeed.”

If time were of no object, suitable lube was available and soft sheets were there to lie on, Severus Snape knew exactly what he would do to the Boy-Who-Lived. He would feast on him.

His tongue and lips would learn each inch of flesh that would be exposed to him. Slowly he would seduce each leg, press his lips against them and feel the flutter and quiver of the muscles, he would nip at each thigh, mark him as his own.

Severus would press his nose into the hairs at his groin and inhale the smell of Harry’s arousal, let it fill him completely, and memorize it. Hot breath would tease the head of his cock, he would hesitate there, torture him with anticipation before darting his tongue out for a taste. Severus would try to resist the temptation, but he would give in, he would suck the organ into his mouth, molest it with his tongue, swallow it down into his throat and savor it. He would pull back when he felt him harden more, when he felt his balls draw in tight against his body. Harry would groan then, thrust his hips up and try to force himself back into the warmth of Severus’s mouth. 

He would grab those hips, smooth and soft not sharp like the ones he was currently holding, he would flip him over onto his stomach. Severus would part those exquisite cheeks with his thumbs, hold him open for his tongue, he would lick the crease, long slow swipes of tongue until Harry was pushing eagerly back against his mouth, until he was mewing, gasping for air as he smothered himself in the silk covered pillow.

Severus would relent, breach him and taste the inside of him, burrow deep and seek out the darkest secrets of his lover. He would suck, bite, and lick the opening until tears dampened Harry’s face and his voice grew hoarse from begging. Then he would push into him, slide his cock deep within and fuck him thoroughly.

Harry grasped Severus’s long thin erection in his hand and pumped it fast, Severus growled and bit down hard on Harry’s neck, his hips thrust up into the hand and he came hard, fueled by his fantasy and the look in those green eyes.

They kissed, hungry, sloppy kisses that were all tongue, their lips barely touching, just licking each other, tasting. Severus pushed his hips forward and allowed Harry to grind against him, his breath hitched as his ass was grabbed roughly and he was forced to hold still while Harry climaxed, his mouth moving soundlessly, his eyes squeezing shut. 

The water rushed over them, washed away their seed, soothed their tired muscles as they stood still, arms wrapped around one another and relished in the pain of the too hot shower. 

Harry placed a kiss just above a small brown nipple, he felt one pressed against the top of his head. “Do you think someday we will use shower day to actually shower?”

Snape grunted and rested his cheek on Harry’s head. “Waste of time.”

“Indeed.” Severus felt Harry smile against him. 

“How are you doing, Potter?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered, Severus.”

“Someday we will get out of here. We are all growing stronger, practicing wandless magic when we can.”

“Someday….sure.”

Severus stepped back and lifted Harry’s chin with his right index finger. “It will happen, we will escape, we will seek our revenge and everything will be right again.” Harry looked up and gazed into Severus’s eyes. “Don’t worry.”

“I am not worried, Severus,” Harry smiled shyly at him, “I am with you.”


	2. Chap 2

  
Author's notes: Trapped in a governmental institution, Harry and Severus must learn to live with the newest twist in their lives, playing the part of the rat for scientists.

* * *

Breath in deep, slowly let the air escape through slightly parted lips, breath in again. The twitch just below his left eye was the only indication that he had felt the needle penetrate the skin in the crook of his elbow. If he concentrated hard enough perhaps he would be able to feel his blood leave him.

Curious creatures, muggles; always wanting to have everything explained to them in logical terms. Fools, every one of them. Magic could not be explained, they would not solve the puzzle by peering closely at their blood cells, prodding them with anything that had a point or sending waves of electricity through their bodies. Severus didn’t think they sought the answer with their last test; they were just sick fucks who liked to hear him scream. 

He had given up on maintaining any dignity only three weeks into his stay. He still felt overly exposed in the knee length gown they provided him with, he was bare beneath it. This had the added benefit of making him feel vulnerable as well as giving them less laundry to do. Pale yellow really was not his color either. It made his skin appear even more sallow and he had not needed any assistance with that.

Perhaps the thing that made him most ill at ease, that caused him to scrunch in on himself, hunch his shoulders though his pride was screaming at him to hold his head high, was the absence of his hair. On arrival a disturbingly fat woman with five whiskers growing out of her double chin had grabbed a junk of his greasy hair and chopped at it with long stainless steel shears. He was so shocked he allowed her to cut every strand so short it refused to lay flat; he allowed this assault without a single sound of protest. 

The features of his face were sharpened by the lack of his greasy curtain of hair. A giant beak of a nose, decorated with a large bump thanks to an unfortunate Quidditch accident, sat square in the middle. It had always been noticeable but without his hair it seemed so much more grotesque and Severus found himself running a finger down the length of it during the empty hours he spent sitting in his room.

The hours dragged by so slowly that he was almost thankful when they came for him. To think that he would be so willing to cooperate with their tests just to escape the stillness and silence, just to hear the sound of another’s voice. Pathetic.

The only way he found himself able to keep track of time was with shower day. When he would return to his room he would place a small line on the wall beside his narrow bed. He would make a line each time he awoke in the morning, when there were ten lines it would be shower day again. The marks were always gone when he returned. He had taken seven showers with Potter; he hadn’t counted the ones before him.

 

Severus was concerned for the young man’s welfare. He knew what forms of torture he was subjected to and feared that Potter was suffering the same. Were they aware of how powerful Potter was they probably wouldn’t have hesitated to split him open and poke and prod his organs just out of curiosity. 

Severus propped his back up against the wall and pulled his legs in close to his chest. The mattress was lumpy and he could feel springs poking him. He glanced at the small gauze that had been taped to his arm where the needle had been.

They wanted to inject his blood into a rat and see if it affected it at all. Honestly how stupid were these muggles? He watched as a drop of blood soaked through the white gauze and his mouth went dry at the color. Severus hated the color red and feared green. They made him remember.

Red and gold, Gryffindor colors. Such a gaudy combination not like his sophisticated green and silver. He felt the familiar sinking feeling in his gut as he started to lose himself in the memories of Hogwarts before Dumbledore died, before he was a fugitive, before he had been rounded up like a wild animal and encaged. 

Severus yanked the tape and gauze from his arm and tossed it to the floor. The red stared up at him, standing out against all the white. Weasleys were nothing but red; red hair, red cheeks when they were angry, embarrassed or excited. Ronald Weasley, he opened his mouth to speak the words but choked on them. Red and green, Christmas colors, the colors that represented the death of a Weasley. 

Ginevra Weasley was still around; he had spotted her just days ago, swollen with child, her scalp covered in red fuzz. The pale alabaster skin marred with freckles and bruises. He did not allow his mind to think of how she had become impregnated.

He himself had not yet suffered a sexual assault unless he counted Potter violating his thigh during their communal showers. Potter had been an interesting surprise. Their first shower had been awkward, both discretely getting their fill of exposed flesh, taking in the scars and bruises, the sight of ribs and knobby knees. They had barely spoken a word, neither knowing what to say, not wanting to say too much.

Ever since the death of the Potters he had been given the task of being protector for the boy. It had been beaten into him so much that the feeling still lingered there after all that had happened. He needed to save him, to comfort him, to give him strength to get through whatever the future held for them.

Severus tried his best to give him hope though he himself had none. They were a lost cause, forgotten, tucked away in institutions in the hopes that they could either beat the magic out of them or take it for themselves. How had a powerful and magical society been so easily destroyed by muggles?

He knew the reason, they were not united. The War had torn them apart; even followers of the light had turned away from it all after certain events. They destroyed themselves in truth; muggles just picked up the pieces and stuck them in cages. 

The fluorescent light was turned out and Severus was left in heavy darkness. He arranged his body on top of the thin sheet, concentrated on the image of a wet naked Potter until he felt a stirring of arousal. It was routine, his mind would grow tired in the long silent hours but he was unable to sleep unless his body was tired too. He pulled the gown up around his waist and wrapped his long fingers around his erection. Tonight he would think of his mouth, hot and wet, lips closed tightly around him, cheeks caved in as he sucked.

The lights came on the same time every morning, or at least Severus assumed it was the same time, he had no clock. He was in the process of convincing his eyes to open when a hand roughly grabbed him and pulled him from bed. 

“Get up you filthy freak!” Ah, Monroe, his least favorite guard. A steel toe boot said hello to his ribs and he automatically curled in on himself protecting his groin and face. Yes, the familiar morning beating wakes you up faster than the strongest cup of coffee. 

He took a deep breath and made his way to his knees. He knew better by now not to stand until given permission. He may be a proud man but he was not stupid. He did what was necessary to survive, always had.

Monroe dropped a plastic tray from above, porridge splattered onto his gown and floor. It was thick and gray and often got stuck in his throat as he tried to swallow it. Severus ate slowly never taking his eyes of the guard as he loomed over him. His fingers dug into the bowl and lifted the tepid food to his mouth. 

His fingers were sticky by the time he was done and his mouth was parched. “Dr. Gray is coming today to have a look at ya. Real treat ya know, having someone that high up come in just to see ya.” Monroe sneered at him, picked up the tray and latched the door behind him. 

Dr. Gray had stopped by to look at several of the wizards and witches. He liked to experiment with them; his patients were rarely seen walking back out of his lab. Lucious Malfoy, Charlie Weasley, Victor Krum and Luna Lovegood were the only patients of Gray that he had recognized.

Lovegood had been an odd girl back at Hogwarts, always spewing random facts that only she believed to be true. It was a shame really what they had done to her. Now it was his turn, relief and fear formed a bubble in his chest. Perhaps this would all end soon, he really should be grateful that the man had chosen him.


	3. Chap 3

  
Author's notes: Trapped in a governmental institution, Harry and Severus must learn to live with the newest twist in their lives, playing the part of the rat for scientists.

* * *

Harry’s tongue throbbed; a metallic taste filled his mouth, his body arched up off the table. One of these days, he just knew he was going to bite his tongue clean off. The only question was whether they would let him choke on it or not. 

Salty tears streamed down his pale cheeks, his breathing was rapid, the air irritating his already sore throat. One…two….three…pain! He choked on his screams, his jaw clenched and his muscles tightened. Relief, his body slowly relaxed, he licked his parched lips. Harry opened his eyes and stared up at the blurry ceiling, his glasses had been left back in his room. He felt the man’s touch on his temple again. One….two….three….he blacked out.

The first thing Harry was aware of when he came to was the feel of wet cloth against his skin. He pissed himself again and the bastards had left him in the soiled gown. He lay perfectly still; he knew how sore his muscles would be and wanted to rest them as long as possible.

Shock treatment made him think of home, of Voldemort and the graveyard. Crucio felt a lot like getting a jolt of electricity sent through you. They would ask him questions, if he didn’t respond fast enough, well he never seemed to answer fast enough for them.

They were forever asking questions about other wizards, where they might be, how did he become a wizard, and a thousand other questions he really didn’t have answers to. Sometimes he thought if Snape hadn’t killed Dumbledore maybe things wouldn’t have turned out like this and then he thought if he hadn’t killed Voldemort they wouldn’t be here either. 

He’d only seen a couple of the inmates since he’d arrived. The day he saw Collin Creevey was a horrific memory for him. He hadn’t recognized him at first, so many of their faces had disappeared from his mind. Dark circles stood out against his pale skin, his face was sunken and scarred. He had been sitting in a large orange plastic chair, staring at a checkers board, his left arm resting beside it, his right sleeve empty. They thought perhaps wizards would be able to regrow limbs with their magic.

Harry opened his eyes and stared up at the familiar ceiling above him. His voice was scratchy but he tried to sing a few words to break the silence of the room. “My life has been a nightmare….my soul is fractured to the bone….and if I must be lonely, I think I’d rather be alone.” Harry coughed for a moment, tears coming to his eyes in sympathy for his tender chest. “You can not save me…you can not even save yourself…”

“Such a pretty voice.” Harry groaned and listened as the guard clapped from somewhere by the door. “I’ve brought your favorite foods.” Military boots thumped against the floor, Harry saw his tray lowered to the small table next to his bed. “Spinach, Salisbury steak and mashed potatoes. Can’t have our little sodomite become all skin and bones now can we.” He chuckled, “the other inmates won’t want to play with you anymore if you get too skinny.”

“Piss off, Williams!” Harry was too tired to put the proper anger in the words.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll play with you if that vulture gets tired of your arse.” He bared his teeth at him like a predator would, couldn’t really call it smiling. 

Harry ignored the man’s leering and stretched his arms above his head. He winced and bit back a groan as his body remembered his treatment. Harry pulled himself up and grabbed the tray. They weren’t allowed silverware, Harry scooped some mashed potatoes into his hand, they were cold. 

The problem with being imprisoned in a small room with no one but a random guard for company was that one finds oneself slowly loosing their mind. He had no clue what day it was; every time he woke he assumed it was a new day though he had no way of knowing. There was no window, it could be day or night, he could haven been here for three years or three months. Harry was terrified of becoming insane because he knew that he was slowly reaching that point.

Harry had woken up three times since his last treatment. He heard the click of the lock on his door, his heart raced. “Get up and face the wall!”

Harry stumbled to his feet; he placed his nose against the peach colored walls. “Shower day, boy.” Harry pressed a smile into the wall.

Strong hands gripped his wrists behind his back. Harry enjoyed walking to the showers. Sometimes he was able to glance into another inmate’s room though he didn’t remember anyone anymore. It was nice to see that he wasn’t alone.

Harry walked into the shower room, like usual he could already hear the water. He tossed his gown on the floor, placed his glasses on the bench and stepped into a cloud of steam. His heart dropped.

The man was shorter, his shoulders too wide, his back wasn’t scarred. Harry didn’t know who this man was he only knew that it wasn’t his Severus.

“Potter” the voice was hesitant “Harry?” He nodded once, his unease growing, the man had recognized him. “Fuck!”

Harry tried to dodge the arms that suddenly wrapped themselves around him. “Shit, Harry not you too.”

The man pulled back and his eyes traveled the length of Harry’s scrawny body. “Bastards, all of them.” There was something about that voice, Harry squinted and stared into the man’s face.

“Oliver Wood?” Oliver grinned and hugged him again. Harry closed his eyes and returned the embrace.

“How’ve you been, Harry?” Oliver laughed, “stupid question. You look like shit!”

“Thanks.” Harry moved toward a shower and stepped under the spray of hot water.

“No one’s seen you Harry; we all thought you were dead.” Oliver grabbed a bar of soap and started lathering his underarms. “Must you keep locked away all the time.”

“Yeah, I guess. I usually shower with Snape. Probably why nobody has seen me.”

“Snape? Shit he’s still around?” Harry shrugged. Was he still around? If so why wasn’t he here with Harry? He was suppose to here, he promised.

Oliver leaned in close; his nose just touched the edge of Harry’s ear. “Have you been practicing Harry?”

“Practicing what?”

Oliver’s eyes darted over to the door. “Wandless magic, Harry. We’ve all been practicing. Ya gotta have a really strong emotion behind it.”

Harry hadn’t tried a spell since they broke his wand. He stared at Oliver a moment. He looked at the door and then back to Oliver’s smiling face. Harry searched his memory and picked a spell. Harry concentrated hard on the other bar of soap. “Accio soap!”

Nothing happened, he was too numb inside. Harry couldn’t conjure any emotion let alone one strong enough to make a tiny sliver of soap fly into his hand. It was hopeless. Oliver looked defeated; he shrugged his shoulders and went back to washing up.

Harry couldn’t forget the conversation he’d had with Oliver Wood. They were all practicing magic? Were they planning an escape? Fools!

He kept trying, it still didn’t work. Harry thought about Ron dying and then tried to make his pillow hover in the air, nothing. He thought of his parents and then attempted to call his gown to him from the other corner, nothing. Harry thought of Severus and then concentrated on using a stinging spell on Williams, nothing. 

Harry didn’t think anything of it when he was led to the lab for his treatment. He became concerned when they told him to disrobe, that was something new. The air was cold and his nipples hardened. The paper covering on the doctor table crumbled as he squirmed. 

“Inmate 143P it has been decided that in order to prevent further spread of magic all men under the age of thirty-five are to be sterilized.” 

Harry tried to sit up but his shoulders were pinned down, he looked up into Williams’s face. “Please don’t” Williams smiled at him.

“This process will be a bit painful, boy. I’m afraid we are running a bit low on anesthetic. Now hold very still.”

Harry panicked, he thrust his hips up into the air, kicked his legs out, he screamed. Another guard appeared from the shadows and grabbed his legs. He held his ankles as far apart as possible exposing him for the doctor.

Harry saw the scalpel, felt the doctor’s hand rest on his thigh, his whole body suddenly felt hot. The blood rushed to the surface, his hands began to tingle, the light above him exploded. 

The doctor’s eyes widened in alarm, glass shards rained down on them, the tray of instruments flew against the wall. “Fuck!” Williams let go of his shoulders, the palms of his hands had blistered. 

Harry yelped as a needle was jabbed into his thigh. Things went fuzzy, he felt as though he was floating. Just before everything went dark Harry couldn’t help but think, 'I did it, I did magic.'


	4. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: Harry and Severus must deal with being inmates at a governmental institution.  


* * *

Every time Harry woke he discovered that during the night his hands had gone under his gown. He had a habit of cupping his testicles while he was asleep; he wasn’t sure if he was trying to make sure they were still there or protect them.

They hadn’t come for him in quite some time; Harry would guess a couple of weeks. He stunk and his muscles ached from lying on the lumpy mattress, he needed a nice hot shower. 

Harry didn’t waste the hours anymore, he practiced. Once his magic had been released he found he didn’t need such a strong emotion to keep it working. He tried to remember every spell they had taught him back at Hogwarts. Every time one worked, every time his pillow hovered in the air, every time he was able to heat his cold food, every time he felt that familiar tingle as his magic rushed through him, he felt a little more hopeful.

The day he discovered alohomora worked he had to bite his tongue from screaming out in pure joy. The guard who came into give him his meal started bitching about people being incompetent and leaving doors unlocked. Harry acciod a pencil from the guards pocket when he wasn’t paying attention. McGonagall would have been proud with his perfectly transfigured fork.

The muggles had become too trusting. In all the time they had been imprisoned there had only been one instance of an escape attack and that was when they had attacked them physically during a communal shower. They never thought that the wizards and witches could do magic without wands. They left Harry alone and he worked on becoming stronger.

Harry was still groggy from sleep when he felt the first touch. He tried to open his eyes but found himself slipping back into oblivion. The touch was back again, he felt a weight on his hip. Harry groaned and tried to move closer to the wall, the touch followed him. 

Something wet touched his neck and his eyes finally listened to his mind that was screaming at them to open. Harry’s face was pressed down into his pillow and his back was covered with the weight of another person.

“Thought you might be feeling lonely, sweetie.” Williams bit down on Harry’s ear and smiled as the young man began to squirm beneath him.

“Get off!” Harry bucked up trying to knock the man off him but it only resulted in him becoming painful aware of the erection poking his backside. He felt his skin tingling, his blood heating up. 

The fluorescent light flashed on and off, finally exploding leaving them in complete darkness. Harry bit into his pillow and tried to think of a spell, his heart was racing and the only think he could think about was the feel of those calloused hands as they slid up under his gown. 

He turned his head and looked out into the darkness. “Accio fork.” Williams pressed his forearm down into the back of Harry’s neck, he felt himself getting light headed. Harry reached his hand out and willed the fork to come to him. He closed his hand around it and twisted his arm up behind him. 

“Ouch! You little shit!” Harry stabbed at him again with the fork, he’d hit his arm. “Shit! What the hell do you have?”

Harry scrunched his eyes closed and concentrated. This time he was able to thrust the blade of the newly transfigured knife deep into the man’s upper arm. The weight on his back was gone. “You little fuck! You are going to regret that.”

Harry heard the door slam, he knew the injury must have been pretty bad for Williams to storm out and not wallop Harry first. He tried to calm down; his heart was still racing and his skin tingling with left over magic. 

His hand was coated in the guard’s blood; Harry wiped it on his sheets. He’d lost his only weapon; the knife had still been in Williams’s arm when he left.

Harry lay back, folded his arms across his chest and kept his eyes on where he assumed the door was. The adrenaline was wearing off and Harry found himself falling back to sleep.

He awoke as soon as the door was swung open and was on his feet before he was even aware as to why. “Inmate 143P, turn around and face the wall. Place your hands behind you.” 

Harry pressed his nose against the peach colored wall and waited till he felt hands grip his wrists. It was shower day; he knew it because it was always the same guard who came to get him for his shower. Harry relaxed and allowed himself to be led out of the room. 

There was a knot in his chest as he removed his gown. Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. His hand shook as he pulled his glasses off and sat them on the bench. He walked into the steam.

A strangled noise slipped from his lips and broke the tension “Severus…”

Severus nodded and gave him a bare hint of a smile. Harry’s mouth went slack as he took in the familiar gaunt form before him. A long thick scar ran the length of his torso, it was puckered and red. Harry moved closer, unable to see him too clearly from a distance.

“What did they do to you?”

Severus glanced down at his chest; his right hand came up and skimmed over the scar. “Muggles are very curious creatures. Have to know how everything looks, inside and out.” He shrugged “How have you been, Potter?”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered, Severus.”

Severus moved toward him, he reached his hand out and let it hang there in midair between them. Harry grinned and threw himself against the man’s chest; he placed a kiss just above a nipple and felt Severus press one on the top of his head. 

“Forgive me, Potter.”

“For?” Harry pulled back a bit and glanced up into those dark eyes.

“Leaving you.” 

“Kiss me and all is forgiven.” 

Harry watched as Severus slowly lowered himself till he kneeled on the tile floor. He pressed his nose into the dark hairs that surrounded Harry’s quickly hardening cock. Severus’s lips brushed the tip; his tongue darted out and tasted him. 

“You didn’t say where I was to kiss you, Potter.”

Harry whimpered as he was welcomed into the heat of Severus’s mouth. He placed his hand on the back of the man’s skull and thrust just a tad bit further into the wet heat. He gasped when he felt teeth carefully graze his skin. A hand came up and gently squeezed his balls.

“Ouch! Don’t do that.”

Severus pulled back and looked up at him. “Why not?”

“Still a bit tender there.” Severus narrowed his eyes and continued staring up at him. “Er…got a vasectomy recently. Wanted to make sure I didn’t get you into trouble.” Harry grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

“I see.” Harry watched as Severus stood up, he reached around him and grabbed the small bar of yellow soap that had been left on the shower sill. “Best take advantage of that then.”

Harry nearly came when Severus braced himself against the shower wall and spread his legs. He took the soap as Severus offered it to him and lathered his hands. Harry pressed the full length of his body against Severus, he licked a drop of water off the scarred back. 

He breached him slowly, slid his finger in and out a few times before adding a second. Harry nipped the man’s shoulder and then licked the small bite marks. 

“Potter…” The warning was clear in the husky voice. Harry grabbed the soap again and it slipped from his fingers landing a few feet away from them. Harry giggled.

“What is so funny, Potter?”

Harry walked over and bent at the waist to pick the soap back up. “I dropped the soap.” He grinned and winked at Severus. The man’s face was blank and showed no signs of understanding. “Never mind must be a muggle thing.”

“Indeed.” Severus arched his back and thrust his backside out making his impatience known. Harry blushed.

The man was incredibly tight; he was made for Harry’s cock. Harry grunted as he pulled back and thrust in hard. Severus gasped and pushed back demanding more. He didn’t last long, Severus was too tight, the noises he made filled Harry’s ears and caused him to lose all of his control. He gripped the sharp hips and slammed into Severus. Harry’s cry echoed off the shower walls as he came. 

Harry placed the side of his face flat against the pale back, his right hand let go of the hip and reached around to the front. It took three strokes and Severus came with Harry’s slowly softening cock still in him. 

Harry traced the nail marks in the man’s hips. “Want me to get rid of those?”

“Pardon?” Severus pulled away from him and stepped under a shower head. Harry watched for a moment as Severus lathered his hands and started washing his chest.

“The nail marks and bruises I left, do you want me to get rid of them?” Severus arched a brow signally for Harry to explain. “I can do magic now, Severus. I thought maybe you would rather not have my marks on you. I can make any soreness you might feel go away too. Probably sleep better tonight that way.”

“Those are my marks, Potter. Don’t even think of using any magic on me. As for the soreness, I rather think I will sleep quite well tonight thanks to you.”

Harry smiled; he reached his hand and silently called the soap to him. “Don’t hog it all Sev.”

“Do not shorten my name, Potter. It is bad enough you gave yourself permission to use it at all.” Severus titled his head back and let the water run over his face. “Potter, tell me, how much magic can you do now?”

Harry saw a bit of Dumbledore in the twinkle that appeared in Severus’s eyes, and he swallowed hard. That look had always made him nervous coming from the headmaster, but seeing it on Snape’s face was just plain frightening. Harry felt his cock start to harden again.


	5. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes: Harry and Severus have to deal with the consequences once muggles find out about magic.  


* * *

Severus found himself tracing his scar in the moments before sleep. He knew there soon would be more. Dr. Gray had discovered that the organs of wizards and witches were stronger and healthier due to the magic in their systems and a lifetime of potions. They were perfect candidates for organ donations. They were going to turn them all into spare parts. He was now missing a kidney; though the doctor assured him he had only needed the one and was being quite selfish in refusing to donate it. It really didn’t matter what he had said, he awoke several hours later sore and confused. Severus knew he would soon find himself lying motionless, hooked to machines, and his organs being harvested for muggles. They needed to escape, soon.

He’d been attempting magic since they arrived but hadn’t had much luck. A few times he had caused his pillow to hover beneath his head during a very intense orgasm. He didn’t think that would be much help, though the guards would probably be a bit distracted if Severus stood there wanking in the halls while casting disarming spells on them.

Severus scratched at the angry looking puckered skin on his torso. Harry had succeeded with wandless magic; Severus had felt such relief when Potter had told him that. They needed him; Harry was the strongest though he always was unaware of that fact. 

The door to his room slowly swung open, Severus knelt down on the cold floor. He kept his head bowed and concentrated on the shiny leather boots that came into his vision. Monroe was a sadist and reminded him so much of his fellow former Death Eaters. He knew how to handle the man. Submission was key, Monroe didn’t enjoy the beatings as much if Severus didn’t resist. 

“Good afternoon, Professor.” Severus sneered at the man’s laces; Monroe loved to call him professor. The man thought it was a huge joke that the wizards had actually had private schools, the thought of Snape being a teacher there amused him for reasons Severus couldn’t understand.

“Monroe, how do you do?” Monroe had a deep rich laugh, his whole body shook with it. Severus could not comprehend how the guard was still able to laugh. He couldn’t remember the last time he had truly laughed, not a chuckle but a laugh that made his cheeks hurt and his ribs ache. It must have been before that time he had cast crucio on a small muggle child per requests.

“Dr. Gray has requested your presence for tea.” He winked and smirked at him. “Come on now can’t keep the good doctor waiting.”

Severus braced himself against the bed pushed up off the floor. He smoothed his hands down the front of his gown; his fingers lingered over the bump of the incision mark. Monroe held the door open for him and indicated for him to step through first.

The hall was empty, void of people but not the screams of the inmates. He had been moved closer to the lab since Gray had taken an interest in him. One of the other inmates had talked, told the man about Snape’s potion making abilities. Severus had no problem making his potions for Gray; he had been used for that purpose many times before. 

He refused to recoil when Monroe reached his arm around him, pressed himself close and pushed the large white door open. He stepped into the brightly lit room; he forced his shoulders back and walked right up to where Dr. Gray stood waiting for him.

“Severus, you are looking well. Has your incision healed properly?”

Severus nodded and denied his hands their need to touch the long scar again.

“Yes, well I’m afraid we are going to have to go back in again. Lots of people to save, eh?” He flashed a brilliant smile of perfect white teeth. Snape was instantly reminded of Lockhart, the man just needed to trade in his white lab coat for something insanely bright and gaudy.

Severus watched as Gray turned and headed toward a door at the opposite end of the lab. There was a small pane of glass at the top allowing the doctor to keep an eye on his patients in the hospital wing. 

His bare feet were silent on the tile floor as he moved hesitantly to that door. He had spent days lying in that wing of the institution, his body remembered it. His scarred chest started to itch as he stopped in the open doorway. 

Severus scanned the room, seven patients were lined up neatly along the far wall, he turned his head and counted nine more patients. It was impossible to tell from where he stood as to whether they were witches or wizards. All of them had the same closely sheared hair, their bodies were emaciated and any curves the women would have had disappeared months ago. 

Beside him lay a skeletal man; the white sheets were stained with fluids that had seeped from infected wounds that lay beneath it. The skin was pulled tight against bone, the jaw, cheek bone and eye sockets were plainly visible. If it hadn’t been for the large scar that covered the right shoulder he never would have recognized the werewolf.

Over the years Severus had trained himself not to react when the fight or flight instincts started to kick in. A drop of sweat traveled down the side of his face, the stench of urine, feces and rotting flesh made him swallow down the bile that was rising in his throat. It was quite clear to his nose that one of these patients had died at least two days ago but no one had bothered to do away with the corpse.

Gray noticed his discomfort and smile reassuringly at him. “Bit ripe in here, I’ll admit that. Now come on, we have a gurney set up over here for you.”

Severus’s legs were frozen, the muscles refused to work and move him in the direction Gray had indicated. How much more of this could his body handle? How much more could his mind take?

A shrill bell and flashing red light reprieved Severus of having to climb onto the hard gurney which was sure to become his new boggart. Gray rushed to the door and out into the hallway. 

“He deserved it I swear!”

“Guard Williams, what the hell happened here?” Gray reappeared next to a stretcher that was being carried by two nervous guards. 

“The little shit attacked me when I brought him in his lunch tray.” Williams wiped his bloody hands on his pant leg. “Complete self-defense, Doctor.”

“You expect me to believe that this scrawny lad was really a threat to you?” Gray sounded pissed and Severus felt a little thrill knowing a guard was actually facing punishment for harming an inmate. 

“Professor! Have you a potion in that cabinet to stop bleeding?” Gray tugged on a sheet hard and the current occupant of a bed tumbled to the floor. “Place him here.” Severus inched closer as the old habit of jumping in took hold. “Definitely internal bleeding. What did you do to him?” Severus missed the hatred that crossed Williams face at being accused of any wrong doing; his eyes were set firmly on the swollen face in front of him.

“Harry….”


End file.
